Weapons Dealer
by Medie Shanachie
Summary: Where do Dean and Sam get all their cool toys?
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note: So I got sucked into Supernatural by a few friends recently and have been watching it...like obsessively for the last week and a half. I've seen all of Season One and the first five episodes of Season Two. And I got to wondering where the boys got all their cool toys. So this was my answer..._

_Sam and Dean do not belong to me...JD does.  
_

* * *

Dean looked over as Sam's head bounced against the window. His brother groaned and shifted in his seat, opening his eyes. "Where are we?"

"About an hour outside of Bozeman, Montana," Dean answered, his eyes glued to the road as he watched for a turn.

"What are we doing here? I thought we were going to Oregon," Sam replied, knuckling sleep out of his eyes.

"We will. We are." Dean glanced over at the other man in the car. "But we need supplies."

"Ooookay," Sam drew the word out. "So what shopping mall are we finding out here?"

"Not those kinda supplies," Dean said. "Hunting supplies."

"And you know where to get those?"

"Dad's journal had an address and a name. Figured we could get stuff there." He swung the car onto an unmarked road and then had to focus on his driving as they bounced along the dirt path. He gritted his teeth as the undercarriage scraped along the ground, but continued on. The directions had said to keep going until they reached the end and they'd find a house. Dean just hoped the Impala would make it.

As they reached the end of the road, a cabin came into view. Dean stopped the car about thirty feet from the building and turned it off. "Well, let's go find JD," he said.

Sam nodded and they got out of the car. As they approached the house, the door swung open and a figure stepped out, bringing a rifle to bear on them. "Stop right there," a voice demanded. "This is private property and I don't like trespassers. Who the hell are you?"

The brothers exchanged glances. Dean jerked a thumb at Sam. "He's Sam. I'm Dean. We're looking for JD."

"There's no JD here. Get back in your car and get off my property before I pepper you full of holes."

Dean shoved his hands in his pockets. "That's funny. John Winchester assured us we'd find JD here and that he could help us with some hunting supplies. If he was wrong that's fine and we're sorry to bother you, but he's never been wrong before."

"How do you know John Winchester?" the voice demanded. Dean could just make out a figure that was probably about ten inches shorter than him. Clad in a shapeless fatigue jacket that hid any hint of a figure, he was unable to tell if the person was male or female.

"We've hunted with him," Dean answered.

A snort came from the figure. "John doesn't hunt with anyone except…" the voice trailed off. "His son, Dean. You're Dean? _That_ Dean?!"

Sam laughed. "Your reputation precedes you, bro."

Dean glared at his younger brother before turning back to the figure, who had lowered the rifle. "Could you let JD know we're here?"

"I'm JD. What'dya boys need?"

"We're running low on ammo," Dean explained. "And we could use a few other things. Dad said we could get most everything here."

Setting the rifle down by the door, the figure came down the steps, pulling off the baseball cap and reveling long black hair that tumbled down her back. "You're a girl!" Sam blurted out.

"Wow, you know your sexes," she answered. "Yeah, last time I checked I was a girl. Come on. Storage room's this way."

"Don't you worry about…well…men?" Dean asked as they fell in step behind her.

"Bessie discourages a lot of them," she answered, "and when she doesn't Babe picks up the slack."

"Bessie and Babe?" Sam questioned.

She gestured back towards the porch. "You met Bessie." Reaching under her jacket, she pulled out a large knife. "Meet Babe."

Dean's eyes widened at the size of the knife. "Yeah that would be a deterrent." He looked around the wide open space. "So where's this storage room?"

JD looked around as if lost for a minute, then nodded to herself, leaned down and lifted a piece of sod; revealing a trap door. "Right here." Bracing herself, she lifted the door and swung it over. Steps led down into the ground. "Y'all aren't afraid of the dark, are you?"

"We hunt the things that go bump in the night," Dean boasted.

JD rolled her eyes. "Yeah and the last guy that said that ran screaming from my store room so grab a flashlight from the shelf." She unzipped her jacket and took it off, tossing it in the grass before descending into the dark.

"You sure this is a good idea?" Sam asked as Dean prepared to follow her.

"Dad trusted her," Dean pointed out.

"Yeah and look where he is now," Sam replied.

"Look if you know somewhere else to get what we need, I'm open to suggestions, but this was the only place Dad had."

Sam sighed. They'd gone around this question a few times. Some of their supplies they could make or buy at a local grocery store, but certain things required a specialist. "I still don't like it."

"Yeah, me either, Sammy, but go down into the dark hole."

Sam stuck his tongue out at his brother, knowing it was juvenile and grabbed a flashlight from the shelf before beginning his descent. Dean followed close behind. The steps went a lot farther than either of them expected and Sam wondered idly who had dug the tunnel.

"Hey, JD, where'd ya go?" Dean called out after they had gone down about fifty steps.

"Just a little bit more," she yelled back.

"I think your little bit and my little bit are completely different," Dean grumbled. "Sam, lemme in front."

Sam stepped aside so Dean could pass him. The steps were just wide enough for him to squeeze past. Reaching under his leather jacket, Dean laid his hand on the butt of his pistol, taking comfort in the familiar grip. "I hope you know what you're talking about, Dad," he muttered.

They reached the bottom step and were faced with a steel door, propped slightly open. Light spilled from inside. "JD?" Sam questioned.

"In here, Winchesters. Step into my parlor said the spider to the fly," she invited.

"So are we the flies?" Dean wanted to know as they entered cautiously.

"Nah. Y'all are definitely spiders," she replied as they began to look around. "So let's talk turkey. What'dya need?"

"Salt filled shotgun shells, a couple of new shotguns, a machete, a compound bow and arrows," Dean listed. "And we'd like to see what else you might have. Silver bullets possibly if the quality is high enough."

Dean watched out of the corner of his eye as Sam headed straight for the books that lined one wall. "Geek," he muttered under his breath and although Sam showed no sign of hearing, he did turn back to look at the older man. "Go on," Dean gave permission. "I can handle this part. Just don't read anything out loud."

"Seen the Mummy movies I take it?" JD asked as Dean joined her at the table in the center of the room. "

"I _hunt_ things that are creepier than those mummies," Dean pointed out. "What do you have?"

"Guns, bows, arrows, knives, if it can kill, maim, or decapitate, I can provide."

Dean looked around in a little bit of awe. She was right.

**TBC...**

_End note: So for Dean's expression at the end here...picture kid in a candy store with an open pocket book...and I'll explain that more in the next chapter...as for Babe: Think the knife Paul Hogan pulls in the first Crocodile Dundee in the mugging scene. :-)_


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's Note: So apparently this is the story that doesn't want to end...cuz I thought I'd be finished with it last night and then I thought tonight was it...and it's still going...hopefully I'll find a resolution soon...Right now I gotta go fight with my disc drive cuz it won't give me my blasted CD back that I just burned for my cousin-in-law!_

_Dean and Sam still don't belong to me...but JD and the other one do...I'm not tellin' who the other one is...cuz it ruins the amusement factor.  
_

* * *

Shelves lined the concrete walls; reaching all the way up to the ceiling—which was at least eight feet up. Each shelf was labeled and clearly organized, almost obsessively so. Dean walked over and scanned the section nearest to him, his eyes widening as he realized the shelf held fifteen Uzis. "Where do you get your supplies?" he questioned.

"Do you _really_ want an answer to that? Or do you just want some new toys?" JD responded.

Dean considered it for about thirty seconds. "New toys," he replied with a grin.

"All righty, so…" JD began to lay things out on the table, making individual piles of what Dean had listed. He noted that even her piles were neatly organized. "You want the shells already prepped or you want to prep your own?"

"Um, some of both?" he suggested as he continued around the room. He took a k-bar off the shelf and slid it out of the sheath, admiring the edge on it. Setting it back near where he had found it, he moved to the next section.

JD glared at him and on her way to where the bows were stored, moved the k-bar half an inch. "What's your draw on a bow?" she asked. "Crossbow or compound?"

"Two compounds and a cross," Dean replied. "I need a twenty to forty draw and a forty to eighty draw."

JD scanned the bows for a few minutes and then pulled two off the hooks. "The Monster and the Mustang are good choices for you then. Mustang has a twenty to forty draw." She handed the one to him. "Monster has the higher draw."

"Sam," Dean called. He turned to find his brother sitting on the floor, surrounded by books; some of them stacked up almost to his shoulder. He had obviously pulled them off the shelves. "Sammy!" When his younger brother didn't look up, Dean picked a tazer up from the table and lobed it at him; hitting him in the shoulder.

"Ow!" Sam's eyes refocused as he turned to his brother. "What was that for?"

"Some of us are still on Planet Earth. Come see if you can pull this bow."

Sam rubbed his shoulder as he got to his feet and joined them at the table. "What did you hit me with?"

"Tazer," Dean answered absently as he examined the bow. Handing it to Sam, he commanded, "Draw."

"Yeah well it hurt," Sam pointed out.

"I threw it at you. I didn't shoot ya with it," Dean responded. He watched with a critical eye as Sam held the bow in the proper position and drew it back. "Is that comfortable?"

"I wouldn't want to hold it for an hour, but I can pull it," Sam answered.

Dean nodded. "'Kay. We'll take both then. You find anything interesting in the bookstore?"

"Yeah. You wouldn't believe. There's…"

Dean held up a hand before Sam could start his mile a minute thing. "Pick five, Sammy. No more. You can get most of your information off the 'net anyway."

"But, Dean," Sam started to protest.

"Don't 'but' me." Dean's voice was firm and Sam knew there was no budging him. Neither of them had expected to find information in addition to weapons so Sam supposed he was lucky Dean had told him to pick five. "We'll take the bows, Sam's books, the shells. You've got the shotguns we need? And we also need…" Dean was interrupted by another voice.

"JD, you're supposed to leave a note at the house if ya come down unexpectedly."

Dean spun towards the voice, pulling his pistol from under his jacket as Sam got to his feet. "Holy," Sam breathed as he caught sight of the man. He was easily six-eight and had ducked to come through the doorway. Hiking boots added a few more inches to his height and muscles bulged across his arms and chest. "Are you human?"

"Are you?" the man asked in reply, glaring at Sam. "JD? Who are these clowns?"

"Sorry. Just," Sam stuttered, staring at the man.

"He's trying to say you're huge, man," Dean said, lowering his gun.

"Yeah, you aren't helping either," JD said, shaking her head at the two of them. "They're John Winchester's boys, DJ, so I'm sure they're fine. And I've got Babe anyway."

The man grinned at her reference. "That's true. Besides you could always put a curse on one of them."

Dean chuckled. "A curse?" After a moment when he realized that neither of them were actually laughing, he asked, "You cursed someone?"

"DJ, your mouth is as big as the rest of you." JD glared at him. "What my twin is attempting to refer to was I told a hunter that if he didn't stop trying to cop a feel I was going to cut his balls off. He tried again and I told him I hoped the Morrigan took his balls the next time he tried to have sex." She shrugged as she placed two quivers on the table. "Not my fault he can't get it up anymore."

Dean winced and stepped back. "You are a _scary_ lady. You cursed a guy?"

"Power of suggestion, Winchester. If someone believes it'll happen…it will. Did you have a reason for coming down here, DJ?"

"Dinner's caught."

"And you're a big boy, DJ. I'm conducting business. You can skin it and cook it."

"Wait," Sam interrupted. "Did you call him your twin?"

JD looked at him like he was slow. "Yeeeah," she answered, drawing the word out. "DJ and I are twins. Is that so hard to believe?"

Sam looked between the two of them for a moment. Granted they shared the same black hair and deep brown eyes along with similar facial features, but he and Dean resembled each other. It was the height difference that was throwing him off. And the names. "Why would your parents give you names that are shortened to similar nicknames?"

JD grinned. "They aren't nicknames. Our names really are JD and DJ." At the confused looks, she said, "Yeah, our parents were weird. But you didn't come for a genealogy lesson. DJ, go make dinner or at least go clean it. Lemme finish up with these two."

DJ stared at them for another moment, than nodded. "You'll be okay?"

"I'll be fine." She made a shooing motion. "Go on now. Git."

DJ glanced at the boys again before nodding at his sister and backing out of the room. "Little over protective?" Dean asked as she turned back to the table.

"You've got a brother. You know what family is like," she answered.

"Mine doesn't catch and kill dinner."

"Nah, you just salt and burn bodies," she responded. "Don't knock my twin and I won't knock your family business."

"Fair enough," Dean said.

* * *

_So the bows I mentioned are real. It's been more years than I care to mention since I shot compound bows, so I had to go searching on the web for draw weights and bow names...they've gotten prettier since I shot and more intricate. But the bows I mentioned do exist and although the company I used isn't around anymore (or isn't on the web), I know of this one._

_This is the Monster: _http:// mathewsinc dot com/mathews -bows -11251 -44-View Product-1473-324 dot asp

_This is the Mustang: _http:// mathewsinc dot com/mathews -bows -11259 -44-ViewProduct-1352-324 dot asp

_and The dealer: _http:// mathewsinc dot com/_ for bows that I used as a reference._


	3. Chapter 3

_Author's Note: Well, its been a fun strange trip. Not sure if I'm gonna write in SPN again...but I hope y'all enjoyed this. Oh and Wal-Hell gets credited to SerenelyStrange--who coined the term...if you wanna know why...ask her._

* * *

JD looked at the merchandise she had arranged on the table. "Ya know aside from the bows—which would run you a couple thou on the open market and the crossbow which you probably couldn't buy—you could probably get most of this stuff at your local Wal-Hell. Or make it yourselves."

"Wal-Hell?" Sam mouthed as Dean shrugged. "Yeah, but you wouldn't believe the looks we get when we load up on shotgun shells."

JD laughed at that. "Yeah I'd imagine you get some strange ones. Okay so anything else?"

"Silver bullets?" Dean questioned, looking at the array of weaponry she had laid out. "Sammy, your books."

"These three." Sam handed the books he had decided on over to his brother. "And these three."

"Sam, you're brilliant, but you can't count. I said five."

"I know, but, Dean…I really _need_ all six."

Dean glared at his brother for a moment, but was unable to resist the pleading look. In all honesty Sam didn't ask for books that often. Other things yes, things Dean couldn't or wouldn't give to him, but not books. "Okay, yeah. All six, but you need to pick a knife too."

Sam grumbled, but went over to the shelves where JD had the knives arranged and began looking them over. JD had turned back to the merchandise during their discussion and was wrapping it all up into neat packs that would be easy to carry and stow in the car. Dean had to admit he was impressed with how quickly and efficiently she packed things up. Within minutes she had everything separated and tied up into three packs. Hefting them, she checked the weight and then nodded at Dean. "You're good to go. I'll carry one out to your car." Pulling a card from her pocket, she handed it over to Dean. "Next time, gimme a call before showing up. And if ya need information in the mean time, I'll see what I can dig up. I don't charge as much as some of your other contacts."

Dean nodded, stuffing the card into his own pocket, and handing over the money they had agreed on. "Yo, Sam, wrap it up."

"I just need…"

JD started as a buzzer sounded and she reached for a radio on the wall. "What, DJ?" she demanded. "Dinner can wait another ten minutes."

"Sheriff's headed up the road, JD. He's about five minutes out."

"Well, shite," JD swore.

"Problem?" Dean asked as she hefted one of the packs and jerked her head at him.

"Yes and no. This new sheriff isn't as dumb as the old one and if he's five minutes out there's not enough time to hide your car. You willing to trust me and play along?"

"Do we have much choice?"

"Well, you can try to bluff it out on your own, but I know the sheriff and what might send him away with all of us free."

"Fine. What do we do with the weapons?" Dean asked.

"Bring 'em with." JD pulled a knife from the groupings and shoved it into Sam's belt. "That's the one you want, Winchester. Let's book."

Shrugging at his brother, Dean followed her as she took the stairs two at a time, barking commands he couldn't follow into the radio. When she ordered DJ to hotwire the Impala, he reached out to grab her. "What the hell are you doing?"

"We don't have time to get there and for you to move it," she said, barely breathing heavily from the exertion. "DJ won't harm it more than he has to and we can fix it up good as new." She glanced back over her shoulder. "No charge. Now move your pretty ass."

"My what?!" Dean stopped in shock as Sam bit back a snort of laughter.

When his brother still didn't move and she out distanced them by a few steps, Sam shoved him. "You heard the lady. Move your pretty ass."

"You'll pay for that, Sammy," Dean growled, but he began moving again.

When they emerged into the sunlight, they both blinked for a moment, but JD was already making her way to the house at a steady jog. The boys' longer legs allowed them to quickly catch up. "What's the plan?" Sam asked.

"Dean, into the house and DJ will show you where to hide. Sam, stay on the porch with me."

"I'm not hiding," Dean grunted out.

"Okay so you aren't the one on every wanted poster across the country?" she asked. "Fine get arrested, but then take your car and get the hell off my property. Or let me keep y'all safe." She stopped and glared at him for a minute.

It was worry over Sam that decided him. Sam wouldn't be safe if Dean got himself arrested again, so he was going to have to trust this woman. "If you get my brother arrested or shot or god forbid killed…"

"Yeah, I know. I'm dead. Scarier people than you have threatened me. Fucking Delta Force has threatened me. Get in the house!" As Dean ducked through the doorway, she grabbed a cowboy hat that was resting on a rocking chair. Plopping it on Sam's head, she instructed, "Don't say anything unless you absolutely have to."

Sam straightened the hat, peering out from under the brim as an SUV braked to a halt in front of the porch. A lean, rugged man swung out of the driver's seat; hiking his belt up, he swaggered towards the porch. "That's your sheriff?" Sam asked in a low voice.

"Unfortunately," JD answered, plastering a smile on her face. "Howdy, Sheriff. What brings you out to my neck of the woods?"

The sheriff tipped his own hat back and stared up at the woman. "Just checking in on you, JD. Where's your brother?"

"He's around. He's always around. You know he doesn't leave the ranch," JD responded, crossing her arms.

"Who's your friend?" the sheriff continued, stepping closer to the porch.

"Sheriff, we had a deal. You stay off my porch and I don't put buckshot in your ass." Sam was surprised to realize that JD had a shotgun in her hand. "He's my cousin. Came in last night and plans to stay for another day or so."

"Since when do you and that nutcase brother allow other people on the ranch?"

"He's _family_," JD stressed, "and since you're obviously after DJ for something." She raised her voice, "DJ, get your ass out here!"

A moment later, DJ lumbered out onto the porch, blood on one hand. Using his clean hand, he pushed Sam gently to the side. "Move over, cuz," he rumbled. "Problem, JD?" He began to wipe his bloody hand on the rag he held.

"Sheriff was just wondering if you'd been home all day," JD said, not taking her eyes off the intruder. "I reminded him that you don't leave the ranch."

"I went a'hunting, but I stayed on our property," DJ confirmed. "Caught a couple rabbits." He jerked a thumb at the cabin behind him. "Was just cleaning them." He looked at his sister. "We good now? Don't want the meat to set too long."

"Yeah, go on, DJ." JD didn't take her eyes off the sheriff, but shifted them to her brother for one moment. "I think the sheriff was just leaving."

"Just as soon as you tell me what your cousin's name is," the sheriff replied.

JD's fingers tightened on the shotgun. "Sam. Sam Wilkens."

The sheriff held her eyes for a minute as if trying to gage if she was lying to him, then backed away. "Okay. Have a good night. Enjoy your dinner."

JD didn't move as he got back into the SUV and turned it around, pulling out of the driveway. Letting her breath out slowly when the truck disappeared, she lowered the gun. "It's clear," she called when she was sure he were gone.

Dean almost ran out of the cabin, his face tinged green. "Where's the Impala?" he demanded.

"DJ'll bring it around, just give him a minute." She grinned at his complexion. "Not staying for dinner I take it?"

"I have never seen something so gross in my life and I salt and burn bodies…some of them still juicy. That was disgusting!" Dean exclaimed.

JD shook her head, accepting the hat Sam held out to her. "It's not that bad. Did he offer you the entrails or something?" When Dean didn't answer, she sighed. "I'm sorry. I've told him not to do that." They all turned as a familiar rough sound drew their attention. "See? No harm done. Give him a minute and the wires'll be back where they belong."

Dean swallowed as he realized the girl had actually protected them; at a risk to herself and her brother. "Thank you."

JD nodded. "Yeah, well, you just paid me a lot of money. One more thing?"

"We're not paying you anymore money," Dean cautioned.

"No," JD said and she actually looked awkward. "I just." She took a deep breath. "I want to give you both a blessing. I know you might not believe, but I do, and anything that will keep those fighting the good fight safe might help."

"Do we have to do anything?" Dean asked suspiciously.

"Just lean over so I can touch your forehead," JD responded. Resting a hand on each boys' head, she closed her eyes and whispered in another language for a moment. Sam felt a feeling of peace steal over him and he closed his eyes, allowing her voice to wash over him. At the same time, Dean felt himself tense up before he felt a spike of electricity pour through him. His eyes flashed open—although he didn't remember closing them—and for a moment he saw two of JD, both of whom leaned forward; kissing him and Sam on the foreheads at the same time.

"What the hell?" he demanded as she released them.

"Don't speak of it," JD cautioned. "The goddess touches each of us in her own way."

He stared at her for a moment, as Sam hefted two packs and carried them towards the car. She held his gaze as he tried to sift through what had just happened. Finally he decided that whatever had happened, it hadn't harmed him. "Thank you," he said, deciding that was the safest response.

She nodded. "You'd better go before the sheriff decides he didn't believe my story. Lemme know if ya need more supplies and we'll meet somewhere."

Dean nodded back in response and grabbed the last pack. Tossing it in the back of the Impala, he slid behind the wheel. Sam was already in the passenger seat, his nose deep in one of the books he'd picked out. Without a word, deciding this wasn't the weirdest thing they'd ever experienced, Dean turned the Impala around and pointed it out of the driveway. Maybe on the way to Oregon he'd find his equilibrium. Or maybe this was just another step on the strange journey they were on…he and his brother were still together and that was all that mattered.


End file.
